


Before I Wake

by adjovi



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 20:21:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17710922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adjovi/pseuds/adjovi
Summary: Takes place after they get Eliot back from the Monster. Quentin is not as ok as he seems.





	Before I Wake

Eliot’s been back in his own body for almost a month now. It was strange, trying to re-acclimate, feeling somehow like it didn’t _fit_ quite right. Like he didn’t fit. Worse, still, were the memories. Of course. Of what these hands hand done. His hands. Futilely wrestling for control from the inside when all he could do was watch.

They had been there for him, though. Of course they had. _His_ people. Margo and Quentin. Right there. Every moment he started to feel lost to it. Margo, whom he knew felt the increasingly insistent pull of her kingdom, remained with him those first few weeks. She would stay up through the late hours, talking him down, holding him when he needed it. And, sometimes, she just let him be. She always got him the best. He shouldn’t have been surprised. She only left once she was sure he was in good hands.

Because now, he had something new. Well, not really new. More like inevitable, if he took a hard look at it. But, he and Quentin had actually, finally, talked. With real feelings and shit. Guess it literally took being possessed by a Monster and the fear of losing each other forever to allow them to lean back into love. To rekindle that which they’d had for an entire lifetime. Admittedly, they were both fucking idiots, and even though they never put a name to it, they had never stopped loving each other in the first place. But, they were idiots in love, so. Call it even.

The others had been there for him, too. Even Alice, eyes still hinting at resentment but now at least attempting contrition, had thrown him a lifeline or two. She knew what it was like to lose control, to become something else. She was tenacious and loved to a fault, like the rest of them, and had been a big part of the solution on getting him back. And much to his own surprise, he had come to respect her. Everyone else was _careful_ around him at first, which he tried not to resent, but really couldn’t blame them. All except for Julia. Who hugged him warmly and instantly. Offered to help him heal; to take his memories from the Monster. He loved her for that, but had to refuse. He couldn’t allow himself to forget.

These were the thoughts swirling around his mind as sleep eluded him this night. When he first got back, he had slept very little, afraid of what he would see when he closed his eyes. But, this had lessened over time. Sure, he still had nightmares, but therapy and time had softened their impact. And now, most nights, he and Quentin would tire each other out to the point of complete exhaustion. Not that he was complaining.

He felt grounded by Quentin’s warm body tucked against his middle, and tried focusing on Quentin's breathing in and out in an attempt to match it with his own. He slipped his hand from where it rested on Quentin’s thigh, up along his torso to settle on his shoulder, pulling him closer. He nuzzled his hairline with his nose. Quentin’s breathing sped up, and Eliot, encouraged, ran his hand along Quentin’s jaw, turning his face so he could kiss him. He was completely taken off guard when Quentin violently wrenched himself away, almost falling off the side of the bed in the process. He stared at Eliot, eyes wide with _fear_ and was breathing rapidly. “Q?” Eliot tried to keep his voice gentle, hands splayed open wide to show him he meant no harm.

It seemed to take a few agonizing moments for Quentin to come back to himself, to realize where he was. That he was safe. He took in a deep, hitching breath, and blinked a few times. “Eliot?” He took in another deep breath, looking around, getting his bearings. “I--uh. Sorry.” Eliot reached a gentle hand towards him, and Quentin closed his fingers over his own.

But not before Eliot caught the minutest flinch, completely shattering his heart. “It’s ok. You’re ok now.”

Quentin sat there, nodding slowly, before tugging on Eliot’s hand, pulling him into a hug. He clung to him desperately, almost as if he was trying to convince himself that Eliot was real. Eliot ran his hands soothingly up and down his back, his own mind racing over what terrible things _his body had done_ that were obviously still haunting Quentin. After a few minutes, Quentin sniffed and sat back, hands on Eliot’s shoulders, and gave him a sheepish grin. “Bad dream. I’m ok.” Eliot must not have looked convinced, so Quentin ducked his head a little. “Really, El. Let’s go back to sleep.”

Eliot just stared at him in disbelief. “You wanna talk about it? You know I’m here for you, Q.”

“Nah, I’m ok.” He slid down in the bed, rolling on his side, holding out a hand towards Eliot. “Just hold me, yeah?”

Eliot nodded, sliding down to pull him in close, nustling his head underneath his chin. “I can do that.” Sleep was a long time coming for the both of them.

***

He tried to talk to Quentin about it in the morning, but he just brushed him off. “I’m fine. Really.”

“That’s four ‘fines’ before breakfast. Must be a new personal best.” Eliot tried to force his tone towards teasing. But the thing with sharing a lifetime with someone was they knew all of your tells. Quentin just rolled his eyes and finished getting dressed, and Eliot knew he considered the matter closed.

To further emphasize his point, Quentin walked around the bed and wrapped his arms around Eliot’s waist. He pushed himself up onto his toes, giving him a peck on the lips. “See? Fine.” He gave him a quick smile, and squeezing his waist once, headed down to breakfast. Eliot wasn’t fooled. Quentin had his tells, too.

***

Things went back to normal pretty quickly. Well, the new normal, anyways. They certainly had enough to occupy themselves with. The plan to wrest control of magic back from the Library had a shitload of discrete steps. Including working with the man Alice had met on the inside, Nick. Who was actual _Santa Claus_ , which--seriously what kind of sick fucks messed with Christmas?

Quentin was practicing his part--a multi-layered spell that was akin to a minor mending, but actually a major part of the plan. Essentially he was responsible for repairing the flow to the siphon, allowing magic to flow freely again. Eliot winced as he saw Quentin fail again.

“Jesus Christ, Coldwater. Can you focus and get one thing right?” They were all feeling the stress of the situation and tensions were running high. And Quentin just happened to be Penny’s favorite punching bag.

“Fuck off, Penny.” Quentin threw his hands up. “I’m doing the best I can.”

“If ‘the best you can’ is fucking up the spell seven times out of the last ten, then we’ve already lost.” Penny shook his head at him.

“You know what, turns out you are a douchebag in every timeline.” Quentin threw himself down on the love seat, glaring up at Penny.

Josh stepped in between them, hands out wide. “Dudes. You are seriously killing the vibe in here. Q, maybe you should take a break--”

Quentin hopped up off the couch. “What, are you going to be a giant dick, too?” He fled the room, slamming a door behind him.

Josh yelled after him. “That was my comic book persona, _professor_.”

Eliot got up to follow, but Julia stopped him. “I got this one.” Eliot sighed, nodding, and instead focused back on his part of the plan. Which was opening the vault that held their Penny’s billion year contract in the Library so they could destroy it, hopefully freeing him in the process. Kady would pull the pieces of the vault lock apart with battle magic, which apparently was the level that was required, and he would knock it away to uselessness with telekenesis. They hadn’t failed once.

That night, Quentin had another nightmare. His head had been pillowed against Eliot’s chest, their limbs entwined, having fallen asleep pleasantly numb and boneless. Eliot awoke to finding Quentin twisting against him, quietly mumbling. “No.”

He tried shaking Quentin awake. “Hey. Hey, Q.” It seemed to work, as Quentin opened his eyes, staring at him. “Hey.” He went to reach to touch Quentin’s cheek, but the other man shoved himself backwards violently, trying to put as much space between them as he could.

“Don’t touch me.” His voice was low and menacing, and Eliot felt chilled to his core. He didn’t dare move, just sat carefully frozen. The only sound in the room was his heart pounding in his ears. Then, Quentin huffed a few breaths and blinked rapidly, waking himself up, Eliot realized. “I--shit.” Eliot shifted then, and Quentin held up a hand, fingers reaching towards him, but very clearly wanting Eliot to stay back. “I just--I need a sec.” He took in a long, shaky breath, finally dropping his hand onto the bedspread, seeming to relax. He went to slide back over towards Eliot, but now _he_ was the one holding up a forestalling hand.

“I need you to talk to me, Q. We can’t go on like this.” He was trying to keep his voice steady, to disguise the fact that he felt utterly gutted. “Please.”

Quentin sighed, dropping his eyes to the bed. “El, I can’t--”

Eliot blew out a breath. “Quentin. Look at me.” He waited until Quentin lifted his head. “How are we going to have a chance at a healthy relationship if you can’t even talk to me about this? About how you are having nightmares of _me_?

“That’s not what--”

Eliot shook his head. “OK, fine. The _Monster_ that was in me.” He jammed a palm into one eye, rubbing furiously, then let his hand drop to his lap. “Look. I get it. I--well, I hoped you want to talk to me. But, if not me--somebody? Julia? A therapist? We could even go together.”

Quentin scoffed. “Like couple’s therapy?”

“Why not?” He waved his hand between them. “This is important to me. _You_ are important to me.” He gave Quentin a small smile before continuing. “Plus, this is something that happened to the _both_ of us, Q. And you know one of the biggest takeaways that I’ve gotten from my own therapist? Is that it is _ok_ for me to feel shitty about this, because something epically shitty happened to me. Happened to you, too.”

Quentin tugged at his hair, and Eliot knew he missed it being long. “Ok. Ok. I’ll think about it, ok?” He moved to slide over towards Eliot, eyeing him for permission to do so, and Eliot sighed, opening an arm towards him.

He pulled Quentin in close, kissing his forehead. “Promise me. Promise me you’ll do more than just think about it.”

He felt Quentin nod against his chest, his voice a bit muffled. “Ok.” Eliot stayed silent, not wanting to push his luck.

***

The lack of sleep and this wary dance they seemed to be doing put them both constantly on edge. Eliot didn’t want to be a nag, but he was fairly sure Quentin hadn’t spoken to Julia. He definitely hadn’t brought up the therapy angle again with Eliot. Which was odd in and of itself. _He_ was the one who convinced Eliot to go in the first place.

Quentin was off with Penny and Kady in order to procure some magical objects from some hedges, and being needled all day probably wouldn’t improve his mood. Eliot briefly thought of talking to Julia, but then worried this was some breach of Quentin’s trust. God. He missed Margo. She would tell him to get his head out of his ass and push him to a decision. He looked up when Julia approached him. “Hey. Can I talk to you?”

“Yep.” Eliot put a marker in the page he was reading and stood, following Julia out onto the little balcony where they sat at the table. There wasn’t much of a view, but at least they had some fresh air and relative privacy.

She blew out a long breath. “Look. I absolutely do not want to pry. Like, at all. But is everything ok with you and Q?”

He leaned his head back, looking skyward. “Oh, thank fuck. Jesus, Julia. I was wondering how to approach you. I didn’t want to go behind Q’s back, but he hasn’t talked to you about it, has he?”

She gave a wry chuckle. “Um, well he completely shut down when I asked him if he was ok, so." She sighed. "Look, let’s be honest. Q’s been a sad sack pretty much his entire life. A loveable sad sack, but still. But ever since the two of you--well.” She gave him a small smile. “I never thought I’d actually see him happy. It looks good on him.” He gave her a little smile in return, ducking his head in appreciation. “But the last week or so, he’s just seemed a little--off.”

Eliot ran a hand tiredly over his face. “Yeah. So. Yeah.” Maybe Julia and Margo really weren’t all that different. Of course, Bambi would always be the title holder when it came to snark, but Julia had that same no bullshit attitude that he loved so much about Margo. “I was hoping he would talk to you. Well, honestly, I was hoping he would talk to me, but--” he splayed his hands wide. At the look Julia was giving him, he sped up to explain. “It’s not like we had a fight or anything. It’s--” He sighed.

“Look if you don’t want to tell me, I understand.” She was leaning forward. Active listening, Eliot’s mind supplied.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just that I have come to recently realize while everyone was so focused on making sure I was ok, who was watching Q? Because he is _not_ ok.” He sighed, leaning back in the chair. “If the nightmares that keep waking him where he is terrified of _me_ are of any indication.”

Julia reached out and placed a hand on his arm. “Oh, Jesus. I’m really sorry.”

“Yeah. So. And, I know he doesn't want to talk about it because he is afraid of making me relive things.”

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, Q likes to think of himself as the hero of the story. Especially when it comes to protecting the people he loves."

He reached over and squeezed her fingers. “And, I have to be honest. There is this part of me that feels like I am betraying Q by even telling you this. Not that I don’t trust you, because I do. And, I know he does, too. Implicitly.” He shrugged. “This is a bitch to navigate.”

She squeezed his arm once then pulled back. “Well, thank you for telling me. I won’t let on that you did. And, I’ll keep trying to get him to open up.”

“Thanks. Really.” They could hear voices entering the room, and although they couldn’t make out the words, it was clear by their tones that Quentin and Penny were arguing. Eliot rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, those two need to get over their fucking issues and let it go already.”

Eliot quirked an eyebrow. “Mud wrestling?” 

“Naked?” Julia’s eyes were shining.

“ _Julia_!” Eliot pretended to be scandalized, even though his mind had gone in a very different direction. Any pretense lasted about half a second before they both collapsed into laughter.

***

Eliot wasn’t sure what woke him, but when he glanced over at the clock, the time read 3:17 a.m. Eliot rolled over, surprised to find himself alone. He ran his hand over the spot Quentin had vacated, thinking maybe he had just gotten up, but the sheet was cool. He slid out of bed, pulling on pajama pants and an old t-shirt. As he made his way into the hallway, he heard a dull thud below. His internal alarm starting blaring, but he willed himself not to panic. The penthouse was dark, but he could make out a figure in the kitchen. Quentin. He was mumbling to himself, and Eliot was sure that he was sleep walking. As he rushed towards the bottom of the stairs, he realized Quentin wasn’t mumbling, he was crying. And, that was when he saw that the knife drawer was open. Eliot froze, totally terrified.

Quentin’s back was towards him, but Eliot could now see he was wielding a large butcher's knife, pointing it towards some unseen opponent. Quentin sobbed, stepping forward. “I’m so sorry.” Eliot knew this situation was very dangerous, one wrong move and they could both be seriously hurt. “There was no other way. We looked. Everywhere.” Eliot could see tears were streaming down Quentin’s face. “I don’t even know if you're still in there, El, but I don’t have a choice. I have to do this.” Eliot felt his entire world coming apart. He finally understood. "The only way to kill him is to kill you, too."

He shook himself out inaction, moving his hand quickly, causing the knife to fly out of Quentin’s hand and embed harmlessly into the wall. He stepped behind Quentin, pulling him in close. Quentin completely froze. “Q. You’re ok. I’ve got you.” He tightened his arms around him. “I’ve got you.”

Quentin must have finally woken, because his legs buckled underneath him. He slid to the floor, pulling Eliot down with him. “Oh, God.” Something must have broken apart inside of him, and he began sobbing.

Eliot rubbed his hands over Quentin’s arms, letting him cry it out. “It’s ok. It was just a dream.” He put his lips against Quentin’s hair. “I get it, now.” He could tell Quentin was trying to gain control, taking in big breaths. “You weren’t afraid of the Monster. You were afraid of having to hurt _me_.” Quentin dropped his head, crying again. “Hey. Hey. I’m ok. Hey.” He twisted Quentin around to face him. “Look at me, Q. I’m fine.”

Quentin flicked his eyes towards him, slowly licking his lips, his voice completely cracking. “Eliot--”

Eliot nodded. “Tell me?”

Quentin turned back around, fully leaning his whole weight back into Eliot. He took a few deep breaths. “Alice brought us plan B. Before that--” He was trying very hard to keep his voice under control. “We looked everywhere, El. Called in favors on our favors. Read every book that had even an oblique reference to the Monster. Did this weird divination spell where we summoned these zombie _things_. All roads lead to the same conclusion.” He shook his head. “Fen’s father forged the knife. We all fought about it. Well, mostly me and Margo. She wanted to keep looking.” He took in a shaky breath. “I wanted to set you free. I’m so sorry.”

Eliot just held him, silent for a few moments. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Well, probably not that surprising.” He tightened his arms around Quentin again, keeping his voice low, speaking right into his ear. “I wanted to die.”

“El--” Quentin half turned his face. “Killing you would have destroyed me.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Same.” Quentin eyes went wide, getting his meaning immediately. He brushed the hair off of Quentin’s brow, leaning over to kiss him on the forehead.

Quentin blinked up at him. “I think I need help.”

He smiled at him softly. “Yep. And we’re going to get you that help. And, you can go by yourself. Or I can come with you. Whatever you want.” He cupped Quentin’s jaw. “But, we have survived way too much just to be together for me to lose you now.”

“Yeah.” Quentin looked him directly in the eyes. “I’ll go. I promise.” Eliot felt himself relax for the first time since he had come down the stairs, seeing Quentin looking at him so openly, so honestly. The road might be long, but they were going to be ok. “So, now what?”

“Now?” Eliot smiled again. “Now we start healing together.”

**Author's Note:**

> @sadlittlenerdking left this prompt: They defeat the monster and get Eliot back. But Quentin had nightmares and sleep walks. One night Eliot wakes up and finds Quentin’s gone. He goes looking for him, and finds him standing in the kitchen staring into the drawer of knives. He rushes across the room to stop him, but Quentin’s still asleep, and it seems like he’s reliving a conversation/moment he had with the monster. He’s mostly talking to himself about consequences if he kills the monster. Trying to talk himself into it.
> 
> @themagiciansprompts


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